Work Text:
Papers stood tall on a black desk, a nearby torch illuminating the tops of the stacks. The sound of a brush gliding across a page echoed throughout the otherwise silent room.
The king sat alone, with only the moon as company, as he worked into the late hours of the night. His body was sluggish, and his eyes were tired.
He should have been in bed, yet sleep evaded him, staying out of his reach.
It didn't matter.
He knew that if he slept, it wouldn't be peaceful. Nightmares plagued him every night without fail, taunting him with the failures of his past.
It was different every time, ranging from the day he banished his son from the kingdom, their fight on the Citadel walls, and the words he spat at his son in misplaced hatred. Each night reminded him how he had failed as a parent, hurting his child beyond belief.
However, there was one thing worse than those nightmares.
On occasion, instead of the usual nightmares, it was dreams of a time long lost. When his son would look at him with nothing other than adoration and a giant smile. They were always doing mundane activities, ones that typical parents would do with their children. Dark Choco was usually a child in those dreams, but there were times he appeared as an adult, as he does now.
It made his heart pang with grief.
He would never be able to do that with his son, and it made those dreams so much more unbearable - more so than the nightmares.
It showed the things that he could've done instead and things he would never have the chance to do.
He sighed heavily and placed the brush down before cradling his head in his hands. His hair fell and created a makeshift curtain, separating him from the rest of the world.
What on Earthbread was he doing?
Wishing for a future with his son wasn't going to change anything. It only gave him a childish hope that would be squashed like a bug – simple false hope.
Yet that was the mindset that drove his son away.
He groaned quietly.
He didn't know what to do. Dark Cacao knew he couldn't work like this, his mind in too much disarray, so he pushed away the piles of paper to the edge of his desk. He pulled his hair away from his face, pulling the mass of hair into a ponytail, his movements quick.
Once he was done, he reached out and grabbed a blank sheet of sugar paper and a fresh bar of dark chocolate. Using his sugar stone and a little bit of water, he ground the chocolate into a smooth liquid, now ready for use. Dark Cacao placed the remaining chocolate to the side, making sure the end was dried up. Now that he was ready, he picked up the discarded brush and dipped the tip into the ink.
Placing the brush tip onto the paper, words began to fill the page, his innermost thoughts coming to light.
Dear Son,
I apologize. I am aware I have already apologized, however, I feel the need to repeat it to you once more. You were not to blame, not for the first attack nor the second one. You were a victim, someone who was forced to hurt someone without any control or say in the matter.
Please know that the harsh words I hurled at you when we reunited were not reflective of my true feelings. You are my pride and joy, a remarkable young man who has endured and overcome challenges with a resilience and strength that comes from a true Dark Cacaoian soldier. You have surpassed my expectations, and I am so proud of the man you have become.
I regret every single day that I did not raise you with the love you deserved. I said this to you that day too, “I showed you how to wield the sword, but I never taught you why.” I only wish I could show you what love truly felt as a child; that is my life’s greatest regret. Maybe then you would still be here with me, smiling like you did before everything.
I was never angry with you. Confused and frustrated? Absolutely, but never angry. How could I ever look at you with hatred and anger when you are my son, a boy I swore to protect with my life?
I understand if you wish to never see me again; your feelings are not unwarranted. However, if – for whatever reason – you wish to return home, know I am waiting for you patiently. No matter how long I have to wait, I will be here, and if you do come home, I will show you the love I should have shown you all those years ago.
Lovingly,
Your Father
Dark Cacao carefully placed the brush down, tilting his head back and sighing. His eyes felt wet as he stared at the ceiling of his personal quarters.
He missed his son dearly.
A tear escaped his eye, sliding down his face, clinging to him just like the grief in his heart. He closed his eyes, wiping the evidence of his tears away with the sleeves of his nightwear.
Dark Cacao got up from his seat, leaving the sugar paper on the desk so the chocolate would fully dry. He undid the ponytail, letting his long hair down as he walked toward the torch. With a simple exhale, the torch went out, leaving behind only smoke in its wake. The room was dark, with a slight glow from the moon’s light shining through the window.
Stepping toward the light, Dark Cacao looked up at the moon. His son was out there somewhere, under the same moon he was looking up at.
He didn't know why he wrote the letter. His son can't receive the letter, given he didn't know his exact whereabouts, so why?
Dark Cacao took a deep breath, turning away from the moon and slipping into his bed. Under the covers, he wondered whether his son was safe.
Did he have a safe place to rest?
Was he eating enough?
Did he have others to support him?
His thoughts ate away at him, and the last coherent thought he had before slumber took his under made his heart hurt.
Please, come home, son.
Despite the fact his son would never be able to read his letters, Dark Cacao continued to write them. It didn't matter what he was doing, he made sure to write a letter once a week that would be put in a hidden chest in his room.
In the beginning, the letters served as a means for Dark Cacao to say everything he should have said to his son over the years, yet as time went on, Dark Cacao started to ask how his son has been, what he was doing that week, and how much he and Caramel Arrow Cookie missed him.
He knew he would never receive a response, but he could imagine one.
That was enough for him.
The hole in his heart may never be healed, but it could shrink.
(He didn't want it to. He wanted to feel it. Instead of suppressing everything, maybe it was time to allow himself to live the moment.)
When he couldn't sleep and the letters didn't keep him satisfied, he would slip out of his room, a thick coat and boots on as he masterfully avoided the guards. Once he was surrounded by the familiar biting air, he'd walk into the nearby forest and sit in an area he found the first time he snuck out.
It was hidden from the Citadel but not from the rest of the forest, the trees hiding him with their snow-covered pines.
He found himself sitting until it was almost daybreak, simply waiting.
He didn't exactly know what he was waiting for.
(He did.)
Every single time, nothing would happen, and Dark Cacao would sit alone in the dark, surrounded by snow and the occasional animal who passed by him, looking at him with their eyes, a sad glint in their eyes.
(He hated that look.)
Only when the Sun was about to rise did he get up, sneaking back into his room to get ready, feeling almost disappointed.
(He knew he had no right to.)
It was September 26th.
For the first time in a long time, the sun could be seen coming over the horizon, shining its light and warmth over the Dark Cacao Kingdom. The snow that always covered the grounds sparkled under the sun's care, and the usually gloomy halls of the Citadel glowed with renewed life.
Despite everything, the Watchers and the servants of the Citadel couldn't enjoy it to the fullest, knowing the significance of the day. Most of the staff didn't know the majority of the details, while those like the Caramel Arrow Cookie and the Second Watcher knew the whole story.
Everyone seemed to tiptoe around the King’s room, unsure of whether their leader would step out of his quarters. The only one that felt confident enough to ask about the Cacaoian King’s well-being was Caramel Arrow Cookie.
Standing in front of her King’s room, the First Watcher knocked on the front door.
“Your Majesty? It's Caramel Arrow Cookie.”
It was silent for a moment, the woman’s brow furrowing in concern.
“My King? Are you alright?”
Only then did a gruff voice respond, sounding tired, as if its owner hadn't slept in days. “Yes… I am alright.”
Caramel Arrow chewed her lip, unsure of whether to push. After a moment of pondering, she took a deep breath. “Forgive me if I am overstepping, my King, but please know, Dark Choco wouldn't want you to lock yourself away on his birthday.”
After a moment of silence, Caramel Arrow closed her eyes, suddenly remembering what it was like to have the Prince as her teacher. He always looked at her with encouraging eyes, not wanting her to be disappointed when she failed in successfully taking down the training dummies. She could remember the King watching from the sidelines on occasion, a lighter air around him as he observed her training.
She missed the Prince dearly, having seen him as family alongside the King, and she knew that His Majesty regretted the way everything turned out.
When no response came, she announced her departure, and in the confines of her own mind, she desperately wished for the Prince - her brother - to come home.
Inside, Dark Cacao was kneeling on the ground, his letters spread out around him as if forming a ring.
Today was Dark Choco’s birthday.
He desperately wished to see him, to hold his son in his arms and shield him from the harsh reality of life.
However, he couldn't.
Because he wasn't here.
The gaping wound in his heart grew in size.
The king pulled himself up, uncaring of his disheveled state, and carefully dragged himself to his desk, making sure to avoid stepping on the letters.
He fell into his seat, feeling exhausted and empty.
Dark Cacao’s eyes threatened to close, the heaviness of his eyelids too much, but he shook his head. He took a deep breath, grabbing a blank sheet of sugar paper and a fresh chocolate bar. He had done this motion several times, to the point where he would do it unconsciously.
Without pause, he ground the chocolate bar into the droplets of water he placed in the sugar stone, making the ink he needed. He didn't necessarily feel real, body heavy as lead, as he stared absentmindedly at the blobs of ink. Only when the chocolate bar snapped did he stop, some awareness shining in his eyes.
He put the bar down, dusting his hands off. In a practiced motion, he picked his brush up, dipping it in the ink. A sad, empty smile rested on his face as he wrote.
My dear son,
Although you may never read this letter, today is a very special day for you.
Watching the sun rise over the snowy grounds of the kingdom reminds me of a time long, long ago.
You always smiled so brightly whenever your birthday came along, overjoyed with the idea of growing older and becoming a vital part of the kingdom.
I remember watching you grow as a warrior, your soft dough turning crispy as you grew with age.
I remember when you received your first sword, beaming at me with a blinding light, as well as when you received your armor, a look of excitement as you rushed to put it on.
I also remember the resolution in your eyes before you crossed paths with the Strawberry Jam Sword, determined to assist our kingdom in any way possible.
I was too blind to see it at the time, but you've opened my eyes.
Our past is imperfect, riddled with unspoken words and complicated emotions, and maybe it has been damaged beyond repair, but I won't let that stop me.
Maybe I've lost the right to say it, but I won't stop trying to be the father you should've had.
Nor will it stop me from writing this letter.
And I will never stop caring for you.
I will be here with you every step of the way.
Happy Birthday, Dark Choco Cookie.
Dark Cacao hesitated in signing it.
It felt as if the moment he signed it, then he would be forced to acknowledge that his son wasn't home with him.
It was stupid.
And yet, it caused him a great deal of turmoil.
He closed his eyes, trying to block his thoughts.
The sound of familiar footsteps rushed toward the door. His eyes opened, flicking over to his bedroom door. His warriors were very self sufficient, and seldom needed his assistance so hearing such frantic footsteps put him on edge.
“Your Majesty!” A voice shouted from outside the door. Dark Cacao immediately noted that it was Caramel Arrow.
He quickly grabbed his coat, wrapping it around himself so that the First Watcher didn't see him in his nightwear. Slipping his shoes, he pulled open the door, greeted with the excited face of Caramel Arrow.
Excited?
“What is happening, Caramel Arrow?” He asked, watching her as she vibrated with uncharacteristic excitement.
The archer could barely keep herself still long enough to answer, “My King, the prince has returned!”
Dark Cacao froze, eyes wide. The world around him melted away, leaving him alone with nothing but his thundering heart. The sound of his jam rushing echoed in his ears, blocking out the rest of the world. He could see Caramel Arrow's lips move, her eyes worried, but Dark Cacao paid her no mind.
He did catch the tail end of her sentence, however.
“-outside the Citadel’s gates!”
Without so much as a glance, Dark Cacao turned and dashed down the halls, his heart pounding as a small bud of hope - one so miniscule, and yet so powerful - bloomed in his chest. His breaths were shaky as he passed by servants and soldiers, not noticing the same excitement and hope that made up their expressions, nor the shock that some of them wore.
His steps were loud, echoing throughout the Citadel's halls.
Dark Choco…!
The king's mind raced, a jumble of unintelligible words.
What if his son didn't want to see him?
The thought played on loop in his head, yet he shook it away, pulling himself away from its sharp claws.
After all, why would his son come to the Citadel if he didn't want to see him? And he knew for a fact that Caramel Arrow would never lie about such a thing, loyal to a fault and not cruel as to pull such a joke, especially on his (not so) missing son's birthday, a day that caused so much hurt to his mind.
Once he caught sight of the gates, he pushed his body to its limits, not slowing down in the slightest. Several servants and guards crowded the doors, frantically moving away when they saw the King barrel toward them.
They all appeared excited and nervous but he could care less at the moment.
His son was on the other side of the gates.
“Open the gates!” Dark Cacao commanded, feeling very frazzled.
He could hear the Second Watcher repeat his command to the rest of the Watchers before the gates began to open, the chocolate doors pulling away to reveal his son, wearing a black cloak with the hood down, his one red eye anxious.
Time seemed to freeze.
If it weren't for the cold nipping his cheeks, he would have thought it was a dream - a cruel and agonizing one.
But it wasn't.
His son was right there.
Neither of them took a breath, observing the other closely.
A lump was in his throat, preventing him from speaking.
He still tried.
“Dark Choco?” He whispered, barely loud enough to be heard.
He knew his son heard him, however, when the prince's eye widened. He looked so tired, much older than his years, and it saddened him.
Despite himself, tears began to well up in his eyes. Regret swallowed him whole, eating away at him, and he couldn't help himself.
“Oh, my dear son…”
He sounded so desperate.
More than one cookie sucked in a breath, and Dark Cacao was blatantly reminded that they weren't alone, being observed by the staff and guards.
He couldn't give a damn, honestly.
His son mattered more than his reputation.
Dark Cacao took a step toward his son, careful to not appear hostile and upset him. Dark Choco looked at him with an anxious expression, brows drawn together and lip tight.
“Father?”
Dark Cacao couldn't respond, simply nodding, refusing to take his eyes off his son. He couldn't believe this was real.
His son broke.
The boy fell to his knees, gut-wrenching sobs leaving his lips as tears spilled out. Dark Cacao immediately rushed over, collapsing in front of his son and pulling him close. The boy's tears soaked his coat, his son gripping it like a lifeline.
A tear slid down his cheek.
“Father-! I'm so- Father, I'm so sorry!” Dark Choco gasped out, voice wavering as he muttered apologies after apologies.
Dark Cacao shushed the Prince gently, wiping away a few tears with his sleeve. “Please, don't apologize, my son. It is I that has to apologize,” he consoled, feeling his son freeze in his arms at his words.
“W- What?” Dark Choco croaked, his tear-stained face making his heart clench. The boy's eye was wide, appearing genuinely confused, as he looked up at him.
Dark Cacao only gazed back with regret filled eyes, the lump back in his throat.
“I'm sorry, Dark Choco, for everything.”
Deep breaths.
“I'm sorry I never gave you the love you deserved, for being so blind to the control the sword had on you, and for banishing you,” he said, tears now falling freely as he looked at his beautiful son, heart aching when he saw the scar he left on the man's face.
He could see his son’s mouth open, but Dark Cacao wasn't going to allow Dark Choco the chance to berate himself. It was a nasty habit he had since he was a child.
“I don't care about what you did in the past.”
Dark Choco's mouth snapped shut with a click, looking slightly distraught.
“You are my son, and while our past is complicated, I have never stopped loving you. I never should have told you that you weren't my son, because you have been and always will be my son.”
Dark Choco started to sob once more, and Dark Cacao was more than happy to hold the young man in his arms, willing to shield his son from the outside world and lighten his burden.
Dark Cacao pressed a kiss on his son's temple before nudging Dark Choco. At his inquiring look, he huffed, amused.
“I imagine sitting in the snow with a flimsy cloak as protection is very uncomfortable.”
His son flushed, his ears and cheeks red with embarrassment.
A soft smile graced the King's lips and he stood up, helping Dark Choco up. However, when his son gained his footing, he froze, his face becoming an alarming shade of red.
Dark Cacao turned around as well and heaved a heavy sigh, his ears warming up at a suspiciously fast rate.
The servants and the guards were still there, having watched and listened to their whole reunion. They looked somewhat embarrassed to have been caught eavesdropping, but some had tears in their eyes, seemingly touched by the entire spectacle.
They scattered away before Dark Cacao could say anything, however.
Dark Cacao could only sigh once more.
He turned back to his son, who seemed to have turned into an embarrassed mess, covering his face with his hands. “Dark Choco…”
His son quickly looked up, removing his hands and giving him his utmost attention.
“Would you like to stay in the Citadel?” A ‘with me’ was left unsaid.
It was quiet for a moment, and Dark Cacao could feel the minute tremble of his hand, his heart racing as he waited for a response.
“If… If it's alright with you, Father,” Dark Choco answered, shuffling a bit in his spot.
An unfathomable amount of warmth bloomed in his chest, his eyes tearing up a little at the title.
“Of course it is.”
His son was finally home.
The father and son pair walked into the Citadel together, the former holding his son close, as if scared to lose him once more.
It would take some time, but maybe - just maybe - they could finally be a happy family.